The Chronicles of 'Nirnia'
by LunaKovach
Summary: Cynnyx isn't like anyone one Nirn, or Skyrim for that matter. This, she is sure of, and so are her not-your-average friends. Together, they all make one weird bunch, fighting dragons left and right, decapitating vampires, and castrating the dead, anything can happen. Rated M - Mild sexual content, blood and descriptive gore, adult jokes and topics.


AN: This is a teaser for my upcoming series for Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

**NOTE: Sometimes, this story may contain twists from the original.**

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Boots sounded against cobbled stone, and the sound of smooth fabric trailed behind. Pale lips curled into a feral smirk, and dark eyes glinted maliciously.

A whip cracked nearby, followed by an ear shattering scream, the sharp smell of blood and burnt skin wafted throughout the corridor.

"Tell us!"

A grunt echoed throughout the hall. "Never!"

Another scream echoed as three whips cracked.

The dark figure continued and sharp ears picked up on the silent pleas of the tortured.

A heavy door opened and boots scuffed over to another figure looking out the arched window.

"Has she broken yet?"

The Imperial continued to look out the window, at the wagons with prisoners passed. "No. She refuses to tell us what they were doing crossing borders."

The woman hummed in the back "The eyes?"

"She's not elven, that's for sure, she seems Breton."

"Her age? Name?"

"Nothing."

"Well then, what are we going to do, then, Tullius?"

"I do not know. We have tried everything." His gruff answer came.

There was a pregnant silence. "Rape her."

Tullius turned toward the tall elf. "W-What?"

"You are man, no? She has a body, you have the part. Do it."

"Why can't you?"

"Because, last time I checked, I was a woman." Sneered the High Elf.

She had already began walking out the door when she said over her shoulder. "If she doesn't break by morning, send her to Helgen with the others."

With that, the Elf left, leaving Tullius to his own.

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_Where...am I? _

Something bumped, and the girl went up in the air slightly and groaned.

"By Sithis..."

"You awake, lass. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." A thick Nordic accent sounded. The youth flicked her eyes opened and looked up, straining her beaten and bruised muscles.

"Seems so, doesn't, Nord." She bit out painfully and shifted her head to look around at her surroundings. Trees went past the wagon, and other wooden carriages followed from behind and in front. She leaned and looked over the other carriages to see an approaching village.

She stiffened as realization hit her. Where were her companions? As she craned her head left and right, ignoring the pain, she looked into other wagons full of prisoners. Only to realize they were no where to be seen.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they weren't looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

She raised her hands to drag them across her face, but her hands were bound.

"You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The girl looked at him briefly. He was dressed the same as she was, in a roughskin tunic. The blonde haired man was dressed in Stormcloak armor, she recognized.

"We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there!" Yelled the Imperial soldier in charge of the wagon.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" Sounded Lokir and the blonde haired girl shifted her attention back to him. He was staring at the gagged man beside the youth.

The blonde Nord man said sternly, defending. "Watch your tounge. Your speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? Your the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you...Oh, gods! Where are they taking us?!"

"I don't know where we are going, but Sovngarde awaits." Replied the blonde Nord calmly, looking in the direction of the village.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." Wailed the horse thief and the girl inwardly smiled wickedly at his pleas.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief" Questioned the Nord.

"Why do care?"

The blonde hair man replied softly. "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I-I'm, from Rorikstead." The nervous wreck of a Nord replied finally.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" Yelled the Imperial soldier from the front and the blonde youth's blood went cold at the name.

She looked up and locked eyes with the General, who was sitting on the wagon in front of theirs.

The girl blocked out the horse thief's pleas to the gods and broke eye contact with the Imperial General. She closed her eyes and looks in front of her. She was going to be killed. She was never going to see her friends again. She was battered, bruised, used, and felt lifeless.

She felt her hands heat up and specks of flame jumped across her vision. Startled, she looked down at her hands and the now charred rope that bound her hands together.

"...General Tullius...Thalmor..." Her head snapped up and she winced when she heard the Nord mention the Thalmor.

She spotted two as they rode past them, and with her improved hearing, she could almost make out what they were saying. "One of the wagons has gone missing. Scouts found the Imperial in charge of it behind a rock, dead. Three prisoners escaped..."

The one with the hood replied smoothly, and the girl could barley make it out as they passed. "No time to find them, but send two scouts out ahead. The execution is already starting..." She couldn't here after that.

If gave her a small amount of hope that it could have been her comrades escaping, and she kept her head down.

The wagon came to an abrupt stop and then she looked up.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" Shouted the Imperial Captain.

Lokir stumbled. "Why are we stopping?" He asked panicked, and looked around wildly.

"What do you think? End of the line." Sounded the blonde Nord and the girl kept her eyes fastened on her charred, rope bound, hands.

_As soon as I get near that chopping block, I'll burn the ropes. Then hopefully hitch a ride out of here. _

I ooked past Ulfric and Lokir as myyes surveyed the area, plenty of towers and keeps. And she could probably sprint past the archers, with luck on her side, she'd be able to get into the forest and lose them. They wouldn't mind one person gone, would they?

"Let's not keep the gods waiting." That Nord sure as hell likes to talk a lot...

Everyone got out of the cart, and the girl felt sharp, hard, pain go through her lower region and muffled a groan of pain.

Lokir yelled something pleadingly, and the Nord snapped something back, but the girl didn't listen her eyes were searching the crowd for her companions, who were no where to be seen.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!" Sounded the Captain again.

"The Empire loves their damn lists..." Grumped the Nord behind the youth.

The Imperial soldier beside the captain bit out bitterly. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The Jarl walked over to the other prisoners.

"It's been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Shouted the Nord.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Nord, Ralof, walked over to the prisoners as well. Only Lokir and the girl were left.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He wailed and took off, trying at one last attempt to escape.

"Halt!" Screeched the Captain, but Lokir kept on.

"Your not gonna kill me!" Yelled Lokir, almost childlike.

"Archers!" In a second, six arrows were impaled in the horse thief's back, and he fell to the ground, twitching.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain snapped. And the girl felt like raising her hand foolishly yelling, 'Me! Me next!'

The Imperial soldier looked at the long haired blonde. "Wait. You there. Step forward."

The girl stepped forward obediently.

"Who are you?" He asked pointedly.

She refused to answer.

"Who. Are. You?" He asked again, irritated.

She raised a delicate eyebrow. A sign of amusement.

"Prisoner! To the block!" Yelled the Captain.

The soldier turned toward the Imperial. "We don't know who she is."

"I don't care! To the block!" She shouted again.

"By your orders, Captain." The Imperial replied and looked at the girl once more. "Follow the Captain."

The Captain gave the girl a shove in between two Stormcloak soldier. She took to calling the pushy Captain, Le Bitch.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Tullius finished, and by this time, the girl was giving the General a scorching glare.

The Jarl grunted something blocked by his gag and Tullius went on. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

The girl snorted, amused at the face the General talked to the Jarl as if he were a dog. But then right back to mentally throwing him in the closest river.

Then a hollow and eerie screech, and roar, sounded through Helgen that made the hairs on the back of the youth's neck stand up. The trees blew with the wind that swept across the grounds, but the girl couldn't feel the air in her hair and the holes in her tattered tunic.

"What was that?" The Imperial solider who had the list asked, almost frightened.

"It's nothing. Carry on." The General dismissed, and the blonde girl entertained the thought of it being a dragon from the stories she had heard.

Le Bitch spoke. "Yes, General Tullius." She turned to the priestess. "Give them their last rites."

_Asswipe..._

The priestess was one of the god Arkay, judging by the bulky necklace. She raised her hands. "We commend your souls to-"

"For love of Talos, shut up and get this over with!" Huffed a Stormcloak soldier as a dark haired warrior walked up to the chopping block.

Le Bitch consented. "As you wish."

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" Yelled a Stormcloak.

The Captain went over to the chopping block as the soldier put his head down and the headsman readied his axe. She shoved the dark haired soldier to his knees with her foot.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The man was brave, and the girl instantly admired his bravery.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the sound of spilt muscle and sinew gurgled throughout the courtyard.

"You Imperial bastards!" Sounded a dark haired female Stormcloak.

"Justice!" Another Imperial said.

Ralof looked sadly at the decapitated body. "As fearless in death as he was in life." She silently agreed with him.

"Next! The woman in the rags!" The blonde haired girl walked over to the chopping block and put her head down on the bloody surface. She could feel everyone's eyes on her.

The eerie roar sounded again in the distance as the girl hoped for freedom. "There it is again. Did you hear that?" Asked the soldier.

"I said, next prisoner!"

If this is the last time she'd see Nirn, the girl spoke. "You have a stick shoved so far up your butt it's coming out of your loud mouth!"

She felt the impact of steel on her back and groaned. Then she heard the roar and saw wings from behind the headsman and her eyes widened.

_Dragon._

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**+5 Reviews - Continued**

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